Chapter 374: See You Next Leg~
"Trapp makes a big save! But… the ball is still with Chelsea! Kroos rolls it across!
Li Ang shoots—PUSH SHOT!!! GOAL—!!!"
"It's in! It's in!!! Li Ang! Li Ang pushes the ball into PSG's net in a way that's almost a tribute to Kroos himself! Hahaha..."
"What a clean finish! Li Ang! That push shot was brilliant! Trapp had no chance at all—
I'm sure Li Ang must have asked Kroos for private lessons~
Honestly, they should just take turns standing at each edge of the penalty arc—
both of them can fire deadly push shots, and goalkeepers wouldn't know where the danger is coming from!"
In the broadcast booth, Zhan Jun and Coach Zhang couldn't help but slam the table in excitement at Li Ang's crisp and textbook-perfect finish.
Strangely enough,
even though Li Ang rarely used this technique to score before,
now that he showed it, nobody was surprised.
Because by now,
fans and media were long used to Li Ang's unbelievable ability to learn and adapt.
They had watched him evolve from a clumsy attacking novice
to an all-around offensive force.
At this point, whether it was picking up push shots from a teammate,
or even—say—learning Ronaldo's trademark knuckleball free-kick technique,
everyone would just accept it naturally.
That was Li Ang's biggest trait:
he could learn anything,
and he always learned it well!
As Li Ang and Kroos celebrated near the corner flag,
Kroos laughingly patted Li Ang's head—
probably complimenting how accurately he had copied his signature move.
Meanwhile, the other Chelsea players whispered behind their hands as they gathered to celebrate:
"Their forwards track back a lot harder now. They've really improved! Swap PSG's jerseys for Bayern's, and it wouldn't even feel wrong."
"They're tougher to beat now.
When a rich club finally decides to build seriously,
their fighting power rises fast."
"But hey, as long as we score first, we're good!
No matter how serious they get,
we control the rhythm today!"
"Still gotta be careful.
Di María's looking scary sharp today.
Since leaving United, he hasn't missed a beat—
he nearly skinned me alive earlier..."
"Hah! Get the boss to help you cover, or just ask him to sub you off~"
"F**k off…"
The Chelsea players were in good spirits,
but none let their guard down.
In contrast, PSG's mood was far more somber.
Still, thanks to Blanc's meticulous work over the past two years—
especially establishing Motta as the undisputed locker-room leader—
they didn't fall apart.
Veteran calmness mattered.
Motta, with his calming words, kept the team's mentality stable.
If this had been two seasons ago—
after Zlatan left—
PSG would already have been arguing among themselves.
But now, after Motta's steadying influence,
PSG regrouped and re-focused quickly.
Their fans, after a brief moment of disappointment,
rallied loudly behind them again.
As long as the players fought hard,
the fans had no reason not to support them!
Once again, deafening cheers roared around Parc des Princes.
Mourinho felt the shift in atmosphere—
and, despite his faith in his players,
he grew slightly uneasy.
This PSG wasn't easy to handle.
They had rock-solid squads at every line.
And now, with better team spirit,
they could explode with frightening power.
Especially that frontline—
Higuaín and Di María were once Mourinho's weapons at Madrid.
He knew exactly how dangerous they could be.
Thus, Mourinho kept pacing the sideline,
constantly shouting defensive instructions.
Chelsea's defenders took their coach's warnings seriously.
When Di María and Lucas Moura swapped flanks again,
Trippier, starting at right-back, immediately tucked in tighter.
Di María, attacking from the right,
had already tortured Azpilicueta earlier.
The Argentine winger was on fire today.
Trippier was smart enough to know his limits.
If Azpilicueta couldn't fully contain Di María,
how could he?
Thus, he focused on protecting the inside channel—
letting Di María cross, but denying him the dangerous cut-ins.
Sure enough,
even if Di María's crosses were sharp,
Maguire—the aerial king—usually cleared them easily.
Stopping Di María's threatening cuts inside was more important.
Even at the cost of giving up some attacking chances,
Chelsea prioritized smothering PSG's momentum.
Trippier's choice proved effective.
Forced wide repeatedly,
Di María could only whip crosses in—
but PSG lacked a clinical finisher in the box.
In process terms, PSG's attacks were impressive.
Blanc felt they were getting somewhere.
But in end product,
they fell short.
Higuaín was still one of the world's best all-around strikers—
but his bad habit remained:
The bigger the match,
the smaller he played.
In Ligue 1,
he smashed records effortlessly.
But in Europe's big games?
Invisible.
Even tonight,
under constant pressure from Thiago Silva,
Higuaín struggled to make any meaningful impact.
He could only drop deep to touch the ball occasionally.
It wasn't that his movement was bad,
or that he wasn't working hard enough.
The reality was that the center-back pairing he faced was simply too complete — whether on the ground or in aerial duels, they gave Higuaín no breathing space!
He did fulfill his tactical role: occupying Thiago Silva and Maguire and drawing most of their defensive attention.
But his fellow forward Lucas Moura preferred drifting wide, contributing little inside the box. What could Higuaín do about that?
Veteran fans with a sharp eye actually felt Higuaín was playing decently enough.
If PSG had deployed a second center-forward alongside him —
whether a traditional target man or a nimble poacher —
their attacking threat would have multiplied instantly.
Many fans naturally turned their attention to PSG's bench, eyeing the powerful "Tiger" Gignac.
The strong French striker had been a menace in Ligue 1.
Last season with Marseille, Gignac scored 22 league goals, second only to Higuaín's 36.
If not for his contract expiry with Marseille, PSG would never have landed such a bargain signing.
Since arriving, Gignac had rotated well with Higuaín, already bagging 10 goals in the league.
Their compatibility was proven.
Thus, fans who knew Ligue 1 well thought Blanc would surely bring Gignac on to batter Chelsea's defense.
But clearly, Blanc had different ideas —
perhaps his own tactical considerations.
The PSG manager didn't turn to his big striker at this critical attacking moment.
Instead, he showed trust in his starting eleven.
Unfortunately, things didn't develop the way Blanc had hoped.
Neither Di María nor Higuaín found that moment of brilliance.
And Lucas Moura remained stuck battling Azpilicueta on the wing, not contributing inside the box at all.
Thus, Chelsea managed to see out the remainder of the first half without too much trouble.
Statistically, PSG had dominated —
more possession, more shots, more corners.
But in reality, their threat to Chelsea's goal was minimal.
Their attacks were busy but toothless —
they simply couldn't break through Chelsea's defensive wall.
At halftime, Mourinho repeatedly reminded his players to stay sharp and not underestimate the opponent.
"I'd rather you be annoyed by my nagging and we bring a win back to Stamford Bridge,
than say pleasant things now and watch you make fatal mistakes later."
"Believe me, Higuaín and Di María can be invisible for 89 minutes —
but they only need 10 seconds, even less, to undo all our good work."
"When you get complacent,
think about who you're facing —
imagine it's Li Ang standing across from you."
Mourinho's vivid reminder had an immediate effect.
Chelsea's defenders glanced instinctively toward Li Ang.
Their eyes sharpened.
Li Ang himself could only laugh bitterly at becoming the "fear template,"
but he went along with it.
He kept nodding in agreement.
Whatever his teammates were thinking,
when the second half kicked off, Li Ang clearly felt their defensive concentration rise dramatically.
Blanc, pacing the sideline, couldn't sit still even for a moment.
Yet after just six or seven minutes,
his frown deepened.
In the 53rd minute,
after seeing PSG's attack blunted twice in a row by Chelsea's midfield,
only ending up with a throw-in,
he shook his head constantly.
He muttered frustrations under his breath —
along with countless PSG fans.
Meanwhile, Mourinho, frequently caught on camera across the pitch, looked utterly relaxed.
He was delighted with Chelsea's defensive tenacity.
If they tried to play an open, attacking game,
PSG's front line would have run riot.
Dragging the match into a slow, grinding trench battle was essential.
PSG's talented forwards were muted.
Chelsea's defenders' grit shone through.
The result wasn't pretty —
but it was stable, and it worked.
Keeping a clean sheet away,
scoring an away goal —
it was a dream outcome for Chelsea.
That's what Mourinho wanted.
And when PSG, in desperation, began piling forward in waves,
Mourinho even instructed Li Ang and Kroos to commit tactical fouls to break up play.
It was ugly, cynical football —
but it worked.
Tempers flared.
The coaches on both sides gestured wildly, shouting at each other.
The match was briefly interrupted.
But PSG's attackers didn't match their coaches' ferocity.
Until the final whistle,
they never found the breakthrough.
Oblak, Chelsea's goalkeeper, was immense.
Twelve saves in one match —
he was unbeatable.
In the final minutes,
Oblak frustrated both Higuaín and Lucas Moura with incredible saves,
shutting them down completely.
Looking at the final stats —
PSG's 23 shots to Chelsea's 5 —
even French journalists were speechless.
Some pride, sure —
but mostly helplessness.
Because PSG's stats were inflated by long-range shots.
Chelsea's defense had denied them clear chances all night.
And Chelsea had every reason to walk proudly out of Paris.
Li Ang, for one, was very satisfied.
After the match, he chatted warmly with some old friends from PSG.
And when he faced the French media,
he grinned and issued a cheeky "invitation":
"See you in London for the second leg — we'll be waiting~"
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